


Wanna Take a Walk in the Wild West End, Sometime?

by Infamous_society



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dire Straits, Fighting, I only become a slight karate nerd in this one, London, mission, strip clubs, west end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-10-24 21:50:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17712230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infamous_society/pseuds/Infamous_society
Summary: A mission in London leads to many revelations.





	Wanna Take a Walk in the Wild West End, Sometime?

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off the song Wild West End by Dire Straits - so this is not necessarily an accurate of how London is now. The title is taken from Expresso Love, also by Dire Straits.

 Bucky grinned. A knife twirled in his hand. Here he was lounging, in a little café, tucked away in one of the many bustling corners of London. The hush of interior was overthrown by the rush of the traffic outside. 

He couldn’t remember much from the last time he was in London, he shipped out to England before the war - that was it. 

Blinking, he allowed himself to focus again. An undercover mission had allowed him to style his hair neatly in a bun, a vintage Rolling Stones t-shirt and of course he was wearing his combat boots. He frowned, the scarf around his neck was slightly itchy. 

Natasha and you were somewhere near, you naturally being ‘the bait’ as Steve had so delicately dubbed - whereas Natasha was working with Bucky as backup. 

Your steel guitar rested next to him in its case. He flicked through a magazine - feeling eyes on his back. Glancing around, it was the waitress batting her eyelids at him. 

Looking out of the window, he stifled a gasp as you clearly walked past: tight black dress, killer heels and leather gloves. Grinning as you caught his eye, you winked at him before the crowd swallowed you once more. 

Sighing, he shouldered the guitar and threw down some change as a tip. Alleys and chaotic roads intertwined as he made his way to Denmark Street. You had wanted a new pickup for your guitar, but you couldn’t afford the time to spare. Luckily Bucky did, plus it fit perfectly with his disguise. 

The shops were crowded, but as he stepped back out onto the street, he smiled. Looking around for any sign of someone who looked remotely suspicious, or for anyone who looked as if they might be involved with armed weapons smuggling. Inwardly sighing, Bucky continued strolling. 

A glimpse caught his eye, he didn’t know how long he’d been walking - but he did recognise you. 

The plunging dress grabbed his attention first, but what held it was your ruby lips and glittering eyes. 

“You better not destroy my guitar, Barnes,” your voice crackled in his ear, causing him to flinch slightly. 

He caught your eye as you brushed past him, “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.” 

And then you were gone. 

A dazed smile crept onto his lips, he felt like he was floating in heaven. Glancing ahead, the sign for Chinatown danced in front of his eyes. Checking his watch, it was almost evening. 

His persona: James Harrison - a struggling guitarist during the day time, a gambler at night if it was only to help him fund his failing career and increasing drug habit. 

He would have to change into some smarter clothes. 

Some smart black jeans, a half buttoned up top and sunglasses later, Bucky was ready after he made sure to place your guitar away safely. 

Stepping out into Piccadilly, the chill of the night hit him. Hunching his shoulders, he strolled down Shaftesbury Avenue to reach Chinatown. Neon colours mingled with heavenly aromas. Ducking through one of the doorways, he stood patiently in the queue. A flash of red stood out from the crowd, there were you and Natasha, grinning as you walked arm in arm. 

“How can I help you?” drew Bucky out of his stupor. 

A blush dusted his cheeks, “Duck and egg fried rice, please.” 

The door slammed shut behind him. 

* * *

Cards close to his chest, Bucky lazily grinned. He would easily win this round. 

A woman leaned on his shoulder, pink nails catching the dim light, long brown hair falling across her back. Her hands moved slowly down between his shoulder blades. Money coated the table as it slipped through her fingers. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin and the brush of her lingerie as she draped herself over his back. 

Looking at her, he could remember the dark alleyways of Brooklyn - women in what was deemed revealing attire. He felt nineteen once more for a second, dragging Steve from a fight; watching as women donned in red danced up to him. 

He placed the card down, face up on the table. Expressions morphed for a split second. Bucky just nodded his head slightly - another £1000 to his name. 

Willing himself not to startle, Natasha’s voice spoke in his ear, “Bucky, you have ten minutes before you have to leave. She’s stripping in twenty.” 

Concealing a sigh, he placed his last card down - once again winning the deck. He had just started to enjoy himself. Collecting the money and running one hand up the bare leg of the woman behind him, he exited the backroom. 

Crossing the street, he ducked into the strip club. Letting on his discomfort as little as possible, he nodded to the owners. Third night in a row he had come here - only tonight was when everything fell in to place. He made his way to the front. 

Lights lit up the stage, all blue and red flashing glory. A woman stepped out on to the stage, scantily clad in orange. 

Music pulsed through the room. 

“Here is Mandy for ya,” the DJ cried above the noise which was followed by a glare from the woman on stage, “I mean, here’s Caramel Sunset!” 

The discomfort on Mandy’s face was evident. 

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky stared at the man behind the deck. He hadn’t seen him before.

“Natasha? Y/N?” Bucky murmured under his breath. “The DJ - he’s a creep and he keeps acting as if he’s trying to conceal something.” 

A hum of affirmation came through his earpiece. 

“Way to make a girl confident, Buck” he could practically here your grin. “I’m on in a minute.” 

Natasha, on the other hand, managed to convey an eye roll through the comms, “Can you two please just fuck already? There’s the owners (as you know), and I agree with you there Bucky - there’s some near the bar.”

Bucky’s attention was diverted as Mandy dropped low in front of him. Rolling her hips towards him, Bucky couldn’t look away - lest he stand out from the crowd. He hoped you’d treat him in the same way. She turned around, tongue tracing her lips and he looked down feeling rather bashful. Before he knew it, she was gone. 

Rolling his eyes, Bucky sat patiently, “Well she just got up all in my face and I don’t know how to feel.” 

Mandy left the stage and your voice crackled in the earpieces, “Wish me luck!” 

Bucky gulped and held his breath. 

* * *

 Instinctively, your eyes narrowed as Bucky spoke about his experience. Not that you had anything against Mandy, she seemed nice, just she had no right to be dancing in front of Bucky like that.

You sighed, pushing aside the jealous thoughts, Bucky wasn’t anybody’s - he had his own mind and it was his choice, you couldn’t control his actions and feelings. It would be especially cruel to do so after his past.  

Stepping out on the stage, the bright lights blinded you. The DJ was playing some Bon Jovi song in the background. For Bucky, the sound of a band from New Jersey had probably solidified the fact that the DJ was helping traffic the weapons. 

Hiding your grin in a sultry smile, you paused in the middle of that stage. There was Bucky: sunglasses, rolled up sleeves and bun in all their glory. Trying to not to get distracted, you cast an eye over the rest of the crowd. Slowly, you began your routine. 

Red mixed with silver as you spun around the pole - separating as you dropped to the front of the stage, money landing in multiple places. 

You dared a glance at Bucky. He looked entranced. You gave yourself a mental congratulation. 

Men, hands filthy with money, stared as you clambered on them; gasped as you ground down; frowned as you moved on. Then you reached Bucky. 

“Hey doll,” his voice murmured in your ear. 

You allowed yourself to smile. 

Hands grasped your waist as you rolled your hips. 

“I’m going to talk to Mandy after this, she seemed paranoid,” you whispered in his ear - trying to maintain a sultry appearance. He threw his head back in a moan your hands trailed across his chest. 

“A man followed me here,” he confided. 

Rolling your hips for good measure, you smirked, “Come and meet later for a private dance.” 

Swinging off his lap, you danced your way to Natasha - who was now sitting near Bucky. You repeated the basic information to her, before returning to the stage - dropping once more, before strutting off as money fluttered around you. 

* * *

“The DJ...” 

You nodded your head, gently encouraging Mandy. 

“He...I think he’s dealing something,” she paused looking down nervously. “Something like weapons?” 

Internally you grinned - Bucky was right and now you had confirmation. 

“He’s probably dealing drugs,” you reassured her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “But he shouldn’t treat you horribly.” 

You gave her an encouraging smile before walking into your changing room  

* * *

 “You were right Buck, the DJ is involved. The owner has to be as well.” 

Bucky winced as your voice flooded his ear - slightly startling him. He didn’t mind though, he was walking alone. Almost at your room. 

Nodding slightly at the man stood outside the door he mustered the strength to say, “I’m here for a private dance.” 

The door opened slightly and he slunk in.

His jaw dropped.

There you stood - red lingerie and heels, smirking like the cat who had got the cream. 

Strolling up to do him, you draped an arm across his shoulder. Slowly, you began to walk him backwards - pushing him into a chair. 

He threw his head back as your hips made contact with his. 

“You think I didn’t see the way you were looking at me earlier?” You murmured into his ear before licking a stripe up his neck. 

Bucky averted his eyes but his grip around your waist tightened. 

“Buck,” your voice low and sultry, “you looked ready to eat my alive.” 

Eyes darkened. Silence descended. Tension mounted. 

“I still am,” he purred, all low and dangerous this close. 

Your lips crashed together. Teeth clashed before lips melted and tongues battled for dominance. Bucky’s hands crept down towards the small of your back as yours desperately tried to unbutton his shirt. Instinctively your hips rolled together and Bucky let out a filthy moan. 

Your head tipped backwards to expose your neck as Bucky started to mouth a line to your shoulder - sucking kisses that would certainly leave bruises. 

This was euphoria, seventh heaven, a drug you were addicted to, you had to get more. 

“Really?” 

You and Bucky drew back slightly, but your hands still clutched on to each other. 

Natasha stood, pistol poised in her hand, “I thought I was going to have to shoot the damn ceiling to get your attention.” 

In the seat, you and Bucky shifted nervously. 

“Come on, we got some weapon dealing idiots to sort out.” 

* * *

 Whizzing somewhere over your head, a bullet missed you as you ducked down. A shot was fired in retaliation, followed by a scream of pain. 

“Suce ma bite!” You screamed, not that you spoke much French, just you knew the person that you’d just shot did. 

Peripherally, you saw Bucky lick his lips and swallow deeply. An unintentional grin crept across your face. 

Your foot made contact with another person’s head, as you landed your spinning crescent kick. Now you were back to back with Bucky, Natasha dancing her deadly routine on the opposite side of the room. 

Bucky’s hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you to the side as another bullet flew by. Crouching, a knife shot out of your hand, landing in someone’s thigh. The idiot’s were falling like flies. Only two remained. The DJ and the owner. 

“We taking hostages?” You asked the other two, Bucky moving to stand next to you - everyone’s guns poised. 

Natasha nodded lightly as you surged forward - bullets whizzing past. A knife split through their boots. A wicked grin on Bucky’s face.  

Glancing over at him, you internally swooned. He was twirling a knife in his hand, determination burning in the sapphire blue of his eyes. 

He turned his head to look at you slightly, winking, before releasing the knife and watching as it struck the Achilles’ tendon. 

Screams of agony rang out, echoing across the room. Quickly gagging them, Natasha and Bucky tied their hands behind their backs, a needle pressed to each of their necks. The bodies went slump. 

“Steve?” You asked softly. 

A voice crackled through the comms, “Y/N?” 

“We got them. The weapons might need dismantling though. Over.” 

A mischievous edge tinted Steve’s voice, “You can get back to fucking Bucky now. Out.”

Your jaw dropped open, half angry and half defeated. 

A gentle finger was placed on your chin, shutting your mouth, “Doll, close your mouth, it’s giving me thoughts.” 

You tensed up with excitement. 

* * *

 “Bucky I swear to God!” 

“No need to call me God, doll,” he was grinning. 

“Roll down your sleeves and give me my damn guitar back!” 

Pouting, he looked at you, “do I have to?” You fixed him with a look and then blessed him with a kiss after he handed you the guitar case.

He seemed to be mulling over something.

”Doll, why did you want me to roll down my sleeves?” 

You fidgeted in your seat, which resulted in only more friction. Internally you sighed. “Your arms are distracting. The veins and the plates - how is a girl meant to focus?” 

Yelping slightly, you fell unceremoniously onto Bucky’s lap. Strong arms wrapped around you and lips descended on yours. 

Breaking away, gasping for air, you smirked - drinking in Bucky’s bruised lips, dishevelled hair and blown pupils. 

“Y/N,” his voice had dropped low and rough, “How was I meant to focus with you wearing those dresses? How the hell did you expect me to focus with you in that lingerie?” 

Rolling your hips slowly, you shrugged. 

“Doll, you...I’d do anything for ya, but I’m not rolling down my sleeves.” 

Bucky felt like he was in heaven. Your lips tasted slightly like peach, your skin had a faint smell of sweat and honeysuckle, your hair smelt of rose. Holding you here, far above the Atlantic Ocean, he felt at peace. 

Your hand fell to his hip, as he closed one eye, a slight sheen of sweat between your bodies. Bucky had decided he was going to surrender to the fever, your touch was burning his skin. 

Bucky was certain that you were a small sliver of heaven on the world, an angel in the crowd. 

His lips pressed against yours. 

**Author's Note:**

> Suce ma bite - suck my dick  
> Because I’m a language nerd I had to get some mfl into this story.  
> I hope you enjoyed it!  
> You should listen to this: https://youtu.be/T4Ad_J_2l0w


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